PROLOGUE

CLAIRE Eden leapt from the airport taxi, thanked the driver as she thrust the fare into his hand, and hurried through the bewildering maze of hospital corridors to the maternity ward.

By then, the drama was over. Her sister Flora was sitting in bed, with her newborn son in her arms.

‘Come and look at him,’ Flora called, grinning madly.

Claire came and looked. The baby was tiny and red-faced, wrinkled and bald and he looked like an old man in a bunny rug.

Her sister’s eyes shone. ‘Isn’t he perfect? Isn’t he gorgeous?’

‘Gorgeous,’ Claire repeated, but she wasn’t really looking at the baby. She was looking at Flora.

Her sister’s wild, dark hair tumbled over the pillows and her pretty face, though paler than usual, was luminous. She was gazing at her infant son with damp, bright eyes, and with a look that was at once awestruck and wondering, fearful and courageous.

She had never looked more beautiful.

‘Does Leo’s father have fair hair?’ Claire asked later, after the baby had been bathed and dried, and his neat cap of fine red-gold hair became visible.

Flora closed her eyes and sank back against the pillows. Despite Claire’s advice to the contrary, she’d refused to inform the baby’s father about her pregnancy and she still hadn’t told Claire his name.

‘No, the father’s not fair,’ Flora said now in a clipped, let’s-drop-that-subject voice.

But Claire felt a need to persist. ‘Our family has always been dark.’

Flora’s eyes flashed open and Claire recognised her sister’s stubborn look. ‘Lots of babies start out fair and go dark later. Like chickens and ducklings.’

‘So you can’t even confide in me?’

‘Leave me alone, Claire, and stop being the bossy big sister.’

Flora was tired, so Claire let the prickly subject of Leo’s father drop. She gave her sister a kiss and a hug, and went off to find a motel room for the night.

The next morning, she returned with a massive bunch of roses and lilies.

Flora beamed at her. ‘Leo’s a brilliant feeder. You should see the way he latches on. Like a little tiger shark.’

‘Does he hurt you?’ Claire asked, flinching.

‘No, but funnily enough, my leg’s a bit sore.’ Pushing the bed sheet aside, Flora reached down to massage her shapely calf. ‘I think I must have bruised it. Probably banged it when I was in labour and didn’t even notice.’

‘Tell the doctor about it,’ Claire suggested.

Dismissing this suggestion with a shrug, Flora smiled. ‘All my friends from the island are coming over on the ferry to see Leo today.’

Claire suppressed her sigh, but secretly, she envied her sister’s idyllic lifestyle as an artist on a tropical island. Claire’s life in Brisbane, much further south, was madly hectic. As the co-owner of a company that managed special corporate events, she mostly felt like a hamster on a wheel – on call twenty-four-seven and continually stressed.

In fact, Leo couldn’t have chosen a worse possible time to arrive. This very day, Claire’s company, C&C Events, was overseeing their biggest gig yet – a massive launch for Brisbane’s Inner City Traders, designed to lure shoppers out of suburban malls and back into the city heart.

All the clothing shops had come together to put on a huge fashion parade. Restaurants were hosting a gourmet food fair out in the street. Rock bands, a youth orchestra and school bands were to perform on a central stage. Buskers, fire eaters, and sidewalk artists had been hired, and radio stations had set up outdoor studios.

The success of an event of this scale rested on meticulous planning and attention to detail, and yesterday afternoon, Claire had been halfway through her last-minute checklist, when she’d received Flora’s text message.

My labour’s started and I’m frightened. Can you come? Now???

Ever since their parents’ death, Claire had been weighed down by a motherly concern for her baby sister, so she’d dropped everything in the hands of her business partner, and hopped on the first plane north.

Claire knew Flora didn’t hold with working to deadlines. She claimed that her creativity couldn’t be forced inside timetables and she couldn’t understand why Claire let her clients rule her life. It was impossible for her to appreciate the sacrifice Claire had made to be here.

Perhaps that was why Claire blurted out the thought that had been bothering her all night. ‘What are you going to do about Leo’s father?’

Flora rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

‘Flora, you have to tell him. Any man deserves to know he has a son.’

‘I can’t tell him.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘I don’t know where he is. He’s gone away, sailing around the world, climbing mountains, jumping out of planes. Anything he can find that’s extreme and reckless.’

Claire wouldn’t let this distract her. ‘Is he Australian?’

Flora nodded.

‘Then he’s bound to come back eventually.’

‘But he won’t want to know about the baby.’

‘How can you be certain?’

Flora’s fingers plucked anxiously at the bed sheets. ‘He made it clear his life was all about fun. He’s irresponsible really. He certainly wouldn’t want to settle down. Besides, if I tell him, his family will find out and I don’t want that.’

‘What’s wrong with his family?’

‘They’re filthy rich.’

‘Excuse me? And that’s a crime?’

This was not making sense. Claire and Flora had inherited quite tidy sums from their parents. Claire had used her share to go into business with an old school friend. Flora had bought a cottage on the island with world class views across Sapphire Bay.

‘You’re not exactly poverty stricken, Floss.’

‘But I like to live simply,’ Flora protested. ‘You know that. I want to be close to nature and I want Leo to have a healthy, stress-free childhood, out of the public eye. On the island.’ She heaved another exaggerated sigh. ‘If the father’s family knew about Leo, they’d have him in a private prep school in Sydney before he was out of nappies. He’d have a nanny or three, his own chauffeur, the whole circus.’

‘Good grief. Who have you slept with? A royal prince?’

Her sister had the grace to blush. ‘Near enough.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Flora, you’ve got to tell me now.’

Flora’s eyes flashed to Leo, tucked innocently asleep in his blue and white blanket and then, she swept her gaze to a bland painting of lavender orchids on the wall and sighed theatrically. ‘All right, if you must know, his name is Jack Dysart.’

At first this meant nothing to Claire.

But then the penny dropped.

‘Not the Dysarts. You don’t mean –’ Claire gulped when she saw the telltale wariness in her sister’s eyes. ‘Don’t tell me – he can’t be one of Theodore Dysart’s sons?’

Flora nodded sadly.

Good grief. A Dysart has bedded my sister.

Claire recalled the many photographs she’d seen in newspapers and magazines of this famous Australian dynasty. ‘I thought the Dysart sons were married. I seem to remember they’re called Joseph and – and Nick?’

‘Jack’s the third son and he’s not married. He prefers to let his older brothers have the limelight. I guess he’s a bit of a black sheep.’

 ‘But – but – he’s still a Dysart. Wow!’

It was the only thing Claire could say. She stared at baby Leo with renewed respect. Today he looked pink, rather than red, and his tiny lips were making cute sucking movements in his sleep. His ears were incredibly neat and sweet, and so were his pink fingers as they curled over the rim of his blanket.

Claire was rather relieved that she could say, in all honesty, that he was gorgeous after all, but she found it impossible to accept his connection to his father’s powerful family. The Dysart’s wealth was massive! And so was their power.

And the very mention of them had turned Flora into a lioness, fighting to protect her precious cub.

Claire’s day at the hospital was punctuated by calls to and from her business partner.

‘Everything’s going really well,’ she was assured. ‘As usual, your nitpicky attention to detail has paid off, Claire. We haven’t had a single hitch.’

‘Great. Have a glass of bubbles for me,’ Claire replied. ‘Better still, have more bubbles ready for when I get back. I’ll be home by Friday evening.’

Wrong.

Very early on Thursday morning, Claire received another phone call.

‘Miss Eden?’

‘Yes?’

‘This is Jonathan Bryce, your sister’s obstetrician.’

His voice was deep and solemn and Claire knew immediately that something was wrong. Then she heard the terrible words.

‘I’m very sorry, Miss Eden. I have bad news.’